Kladdkaka
by MasksandLanterns
Summary: Chantelle, Henrik ..and a bench.
1. Chapter 1

Clutching her salad and a paper bag containing a chicken roll, Chantelle teetered across the grass to the area in the hospital grounds where she knew there was a bench under a large shady tree. The sun was beating down and it was a beautiful, breezy summer day.

As she approached the bench she was surpised to see it was already occupied by a solitary figure, her nerves started slightly as she realised it was Henrik Hanssen. The lanky Director of Surgery was sitting quietly with his jacket off, something was in a container beside him on the bench - probably his lunch, she guessed.

"Nurse Lane..." He said warily as she grinned at him.

"Mr Hanssen! Hello! Looks like someone had the same idea as me!"

"Quite." Hanssen looked faintly uneasy but polite as she sat down on the bench near him. He broke off a piece of something dark from the container and chewed it thoughtfully as his gaze turned back to the bright, sunny vista in front of them.

Chantelle opened her salad and picked at it, Hanssen's gaze swivelled back to her as she bit into a tomato, she did not notice his look of distaste until she glanced at him. "Something wrong?" She said with her mouth full.

Hanssen shook his head. "I have a hatred of tomatoes...but you clearly do not, please continue."

Chantelle quirked a brow and continued to munch. "So what are you having?"

"Kladdkaka" Hanssen said, Chantelle's eyes widened.

"Kladd...kaka?"

"Kladdkaka" Hanssen said again only in a slower tone as if he were patiently explaining something to a child. "It is a type of Swedish cake. Rather sticky, dark and similar to the American brownie...would you care to try it?"

"Oh sure!" Chantelle's face lit up as be broke off a piece and handed it to her in a fragment of napkin. Chantelle took a bite and shut her eyes in bliss as the cake stuck to her tongue in a sticky, chocolate explosion. "Oh my god...this is SO good...s'very gooey..."

"Indeed." Hanssen sighed contentedly, for a silent moment the two of them sat unified by their love of chocolate.

"So..." Chantelle dabbed her mouth with the napkin piece. "Sweden..is that like, where the Vikings came from?"

".."Like," Some of them" Hanssen said, gently mocking her.

"Ohh, so that's why they call you Henrik the Viking..."

Hanssen eyed her for a moment, looking mildly amused. "One of my many nicknames."

"Oh I know.." Chantelle continued, blithely reeling them off. "Angel of Death, Dr Doom, Henrik The Horrible-"

Hanssen's face turned stony.

Chantelle gulped at his expression and decided to focus on her chicken roll instead. "Um, but you know people only seem to give nicknames when they're mean, I mean the people are mean..not you.."

Hanssen's eyebrow lifted."Hmm."

Chantelle blushed in embarassment and chewed on her roll. "I think, if I were in charge of nicknames, I'd give out nice ones too."

"Like what?"

Chantelle caught sight of her watch and gasped. "Oh my god is that the right time?" Hanssen leaned over and checked her watch against his. "I'm afraid it is, Nurse Lane."

"I better get going!" Chantelle stood up and collected the remains of her lunch. "Oh, you know what?" She stood for a moment and regarded him with a sunny smile. "I'd call you, Henrik the Hospitable...for the cake...or Handsome Hanssen..cos Handsome is like Hanssen isn't it?"

Hanssen's eyes widened slightly behind his glasses.

"Oh but don't get the wrong idea cos you're like, old..in a nice way.." Chantelle added, waggling the salad container at him enthusiastically.

Hanssen struggled to keep his expression straight."I promise I won't" He said firmly, nodding to her. "Don't be late, Nurse Lane."

"OK! See you later and thanks for the tasty Klad-a-ka!" Chantelle beamed and hurried away like a blonde tornado.

Hanssen watched her go, shaking his head slightly. He finished the last of the gooey cake and rose to stride back towards the hospital with a rare smile on his face.


	2. Chapter 2

It was a far cooler day when Chantelle went to sit on the bench again, she was busy day-dreaming when she saw Henrik Hanssen's car pull up and realised what time it was.

Hanssen unfolded his legs and eased himself out of the car before reaching back for his overcoat, his mind as usual going through a hundred processes and all before he'd even got to his office. He picked up his briefcase and as he turned and straightened - closing the car door - he noticed the small figure on the bench looking crumpled and just a little dejected.

The Swede sighed, he gripped the case and strode purposefully towards her.

Chantelle saw him and froze, bracing herself for another backhanded compliment. She didn't blame him, the mistake with Elizabeth was something he never would have done - and she'd learned her lesson.

Hanssen gazed at her long and expressionless for a moment, Chantelle shifted uncomfortably on the bench.

The long silence was getting unbearable and then...

"Do not fear mistakes. You will know failure. Continue to reach out." Hanssen said, in a tone that told her he was quoting someone. He added with a small smile "Benjamin Franklin."

Chantelle's expression lost its tension and she closed her eyes for a moment - then smiled as she opened them.

Hanssen nodded briskly to her and walked away towards the hospital entrance in long strides.

Chantelle puffed her cheeks out in relief and looked around, before murmering to herself "Who's Benjamin Franklin?"


	3. Chapter 3

Henrik Hanssen's headache was getting worse. Clutching a folder, he stalked the corridors feeling terrible until a gust of fresh air made him think about heading outside for a while to try and get some peace from the constant thrum and oppressive lights of the hospital.

Stepping outside, the air made him feel calmer. He spotted the bench and strode over to take a seat for five minutes just to watch the world go by.

The folder was still playing on his mind, he went through it idly - trying to focus on reports and notes people had sent him but the headache was nagging.

His eye fell on one note from someone who often acted as his eyes and ears on various wards. Frowning, he looked over it and caught "Nurse Lane", "Nurse Tait" and the words "Pepe Le Perve".

Reading over the message, his usually stern face twitched into a smile. He knew full well what nurses had to put up with on a daily basis and a little payback was not uncommon even if it wasn't strictly professional. He would keep an eye on both of them and reprimand them if necessary but the absurdity and humour of the story started to make him giggle.

Ambulancemen stared across the carpark at the sight of the usually sober and taciturn Director of Surgery, reading a note, emitting peals of rich, deep laughter. They shook their heads.

"Pepe Le Perve!" Henrik took a deep breath, chuckling and wiped his eyes with a handkerchief and realised his headache was subsiding.

He smiled to himself and settled back on the bench for another five minutes of people-watching, making a note to congratulate the two nurses on their witty choice of nickname next time he saw them.


	4. Chapter 4

Chantelle ignored the cold wind as she made her way out of the hospital and walked quietly across the landscaped gardens to the bench with her snack. She glanced up at the glowering sky with a sigh, the weather seemed to match the mood inside the wards at that particular moment. Her natural exuberance was dented and she was struggling to smile.

Three months had passed and still her mind wandered back to the day Henrik Hanssen walked out of Holby.

"See you tomorrow" he'd said to her. She almost kicked herself in hindsight for not realising what was going on seeing as he was carrying a box. She did't entirely know what sort of stress he'd been under but thinking back, she had seen it but believed him when he said he was...safe. An ache had started that day, people suddenly realised in the light of his absence how much they truly appreciated the tall, acerbic Swede. The hospital without his prescence was just not the same, it was worse.

Chantelle opened her pot of yoghurt and tried to ignore the nip in the air. Thoughtfully munching her lunch, other thoughts of the hospital and patients crowded her mind. Mr Griffin would be wondering why she wasn't in the nurses' room, he noticed small things like that and she knew she'd get questioned when she went back in. She simply couldn't stand the atmosphere.

She looked up at the sky and noticed a few flakes of snow dropping from the dark clouds. Sighing, she pulled her jacket tighter around her and stood up, watching as cars drew in to the car park and left, she waited for an ambulance to pass before glancing up again as the snow started really coming down in thick flakes.

She had the oddest feeling in a split second that someone was nearby and turned her head to see a tall figure clad in a long overcoat looking up at the hospital. When he saw her, she saw glasses glint in the light and dark, focused eyes peering at her.

Henrik Hanssen. She blinked softly and wondered if she was going mad, seeing what she wanted to see to feel safe and secure again. Like someone smart and strong who could make a difference actually cared. Then he smiled that gently-amused smile at her and she let out a little gasp.

"MR HANSSEN!"

She threw herself across the road in three bounds and locked arms around his torso with a yelp of delight. The tall Swede almost toppled over in shock. "Nurse Lane kindly control your-" He looked down at her owlishly behind his glasses and shook his head with a smile, knowing it was hopeless. "Never mind"

Chantelle looked up into his face with an almost whisper. "Are you back? Oh please tell me you're back, what happened? You said "see you tomorrow"?"

"It doesn't matter, Nurse Lane." Hanssen looked down at her, thoughts of whatever had happened moving enigmatically behind his eyes for a moment. He simply patted her shoulder as she continued to squeeze him and gave her a quiet, serious smile.

"Tomorrow has come."


	5. Chapter 5

Side-by-side they sat in the sun, in her lap was a baguette overfilled with chicken, tomato, cheese and lettuce. In his lap was a packet of sushi, chopsticks and a napkin.

Silence between them they each ate their snacks, occasionally glancing to each other with smiles and polite nods, watching the world go by.

She got to a large and ungainly piece of chicken with a tomato slice stuck to it and paused, looking at him.

His eyes focused on the tomato slice like he would regard a section of diseased liver...subtle disapproval creasing his eyes as he chewed on his hosomaki.

Her eyes widened a little. She slowly put the baguette in her lap, gesturing to the plastic lid of the sushi lying on the bench next to him with a slight eyebrow raise.

He gave her a quizzical look and nodded.

She opened her baguette up and carefully placed every piece of badly-cut tomato on the plastic lid, his eyebrows lifted as he watched her rise and teeter over to the rubbish bin - dropping the whole ungodly mess into the receptacle.

Behind her back, he gave her a look of silent respect and appreciation.

As she sat back down, she gave him a sunny, breezy grin and sucked bits of grated cheese off her finger.

Straightening his face into a headmasterly-expression, he nodded approvingly and continued to savour his rice-filled seaweed with the faintest of smiles.  
> <p>


	6. Chapter 6

Digby hurried across the road, pushing his glasses back onto the bridge of his nose. He held a bag of sushi under his arm and as he turned the corner to enter the doors his eyes slid to one side, alighting upon...oddly, Henrik Hanssen and Chantelle, his Chantelle, eating their lunch on a bench and chatting quite ordinarily.

This was something of a shock, firstly that Chantelle was important enough to warrant conversation from Hanssen and secondly that Hanssen was indeed capable of chatting in any normal sense.

"Oo, Digby! Hiya!" Chantelle waved him over, grinning, her blonde hair gleaming in the sun like gold...God, she was pretty... - _oh shut up, Digby,_ he chastised himself - while Hanssen silently regarded him. Digby felt his insides turn to jelly as the Swede's gaze cut into his like a laser. It was like looking at the sun, if you didn't look directly at him he wouldn't burn your eyes out.

Taking his own advice, Digby averted his eyes and looked at Chantelle instead but that wasn't much better. A blush was creeping over his cheeks. "H-hi, er, having your lunch outside? Well, I suppose it is a n-nice day"

"Gorgeous, I was just saying so to Mr Hanssen!" Chantelle beamed sunnily.

Hanssen's gaze fell on the sushi bag. "Mm." He raised an eyebrow. "I didn't have you down as a fan of Japanese cuisine..?"

"Ah uh...it's not for me I can't stand the stuff-" Digby glanced down, realising Hanssen had an empty sushi tray from the same restaurant he had got the bag. The tall man's eyes narrowed and Digby gulped. "Ha, ah..yes well. Obviously it's not for everyone but you enjoy-"

"Who, may I enquire, is it for?" Hanssen interrupted, archly.

Digby gulped again, the noise of his swallow sounding unnaturally loud in his ears. "Umm...Michael...umm..Spence..." He said weakly, noticing Chantelle wincing inwardly.

Hanssen's eyes glinted. "I see." He rose, slowly and towered over both of them. "I don't think this is a productive use of your time, is it? Hand it over please." He opened a long, slender hand.

Digby felt as if he was handing a confiscated toy over to the headmaster, he looked glum. Chantelle looked up at Hanssen with big eyes. The Swede took the bag and set it on the bench.

"You can tell Mr Spence that for wasting your time he can go hungry, perhaps that will teach him to manage his time better so he can get his own lunch in future." Hanssen dug into his pocket and opened a wallet, handing a note to the younger doctor. "For the sushi. And, if he has an issue he can take it up with me."

Digby stared at the note, at Hanssen, at the sushi and at Chantelle who gave him a reassuring grin. His heart sank, partly realising he had to tell Spence about this and partly grateful he wouldn't have to waste his time getting Spence's lunch in future.

"I'd better, go...tell him..."

"Have you had time to eat?"

Digby shook his head.

"Go and eat now." Hanssen said. "20 minutes I shall expect to see you back on the ward".

Digby grinned despite himself "Yes sir!" He looked at Chantelle, who was grinning from ear-to-ear.

"Off you go." Hanssen turned as Digby nodded and hurried off. As the tall Swede looked at Chantelle, she wiped the huge grin off her face and nodded approvingly. Hanssen sat, gracefully and opened the bag of extra sushi he now had.

Chantelle looked at him. "No sense in letting it go to waste." She said in a conspiratorial tone, smiling.

"I wholeheartedly agree, Nurse Lane" Hanssen nodded as he wielded his chopsticks and popped a sushi roll in his mouth.


	7. Chapter 7

"We're up all night for good fun, we're up all night to get lucky!" A young woman's voice wailed out of tune.

Halfway out of his car, Henrik Hanssen flinched. Looking over at the bench, Chantelle Lane was seated - earbuds in - singing her heart out.

"She's up all night for good fun! I'm up all night to get lucky!"

Hanssen winced at the sound. Picking up his box of folders he locked up his car and straightened, peering at Nurse Lane, as he edged closer - a dubious expression on his face. She was now waving her furry-booted feet back and forth, blonde head bobbing along to the beat coming from her iPod.

He stood perfectly still, watching her for a moment. What she lacked in tunefulness she made up for in enthusiasm. Her eyes were squeezed tight shut, face scrunched up, hands punching the air in delight. He found himself smiling.

"We've come too farrrrr, to give up, who we areeee! So let's raise the bar and our cups=" A hand lifted, presumably with an imaginary cup in it. "To the stars!"

Hanssen blinked slowly, arranging his face in a more moderate expression. It wasn't Wagner, but it was expressing a sentiment he could agree with and it was unbearably catchy. Not knowing what the song was, he hummed the few bars he had heard and unseen by the nurse, who was still wailing joyfully, he departed for his office.

Pulling her earbuds out, Chantelle sighed happily. As she cleared up the remains of her lunch and got ready to walk into the building, Michael Spence was sauntering the other way briskly, on route to the takeaway.

"Hey!"

"Oh hey! I just finished-"

"Not on your case, Chan, you better get your butt back in though, I just passed Hanssen" A puzzled look crept over his face.

"Something wrong?"

"Nah...not really. He was humming..." Spence spun on his heel, talking to her as he walked backwards away. "I just never had him down as a fan of Daft Punk" He shrugged and chuckled as Chantelle's eyes widened. "Guy's full of suprises...later, Channers!"


	8. The Future

Five years later.

A young family sat waiting in the morning sunshine of an autumn day, a beautiful blonde woman, her husband and a pretty, doll-like young daughter sitting on the bench outside the hospital. They giggled, spoke and hugged as they waited.

A graceful black car bearing what anyone would recognise as European numberplates pulled up in the sunlight and the family watched as the doors opened and an elegant, ridiculously-tall man in glasses and an immaculate suit stepped from the car, his hand firmly holding the hand of a five-year old child.

The dark-haired boy spotted the family and a grin crossed his face. He knew them, he remembered them and always would remember the blonde woman.

A smile like sunlight answered him and he was swept off his feet in a warm hug by the target of his grin. The tall man smiled. The family stood and greeted them both.

The blonde looked up and smiled. "Hello Grandad!" she said cheekily in her broad accent.

The tall man laughed and gave her a mock stern look as he stooped slightly to embrace her. "My Nurse Lane."

Cheeks were kissed and hands held as the two families shared a time of memory and news in the warm light.

Bonds of friendship born in adversity would remain for all the days of their lives and their children and grandchildren's lives. Visits would be made, old times remembered and new ones shared, with events celebrated. Like a tide caressing a shore, they would rush away and return to touch each other.

Terms such as "our friends in Sweden", "our English friends" would become common and ties would pass on from parents and grandparents to children and their children.

As every heart truly knows, souls who loved each other and bonded in life travel through eternity together.

As even a bench knows, having been once a tree, forged metals from the earth and other things, nothing every truly dies.

It simply goes away and becomes something else.

**[For now, this story is paused as Hanssen has left and writing about him simply reminds me of his loss. But. one day, I may feel inspired to pick up the story again, filling in the gaps between now and this future. Thank you to everyone who's commented and likes my view of this wonderful relationship!]**


End file.
